Pregnancy Paints
by LegendJennings
Summary: Maryse is pregnant, Punk has paint. They've both got there prices to pay.


"Good afternoon sunshine!"

"I hate you, shut up." Maryse Ouellet said to her boyfriend, CM Punk as she walked into the kitchen to begin making spaghetti

"Hey now, that's not the kind of language we should be sporting around our baby, is it?" CM punk said sarcastically.

"It's not surprising you haven't learned this yet in your 34 years of life, but that devil child of yours is in my stomach, not hanging out of some pouch attached to my stomach." Maryse retorted.

"Yeah, but I believe in setting the mood." Punk continued.

"I don't care what you believe. The baby is in me, my body, my rules, your problem to get over."

"You seem bitter."

"Bitter? You seem jealous."

"Jealous of what? Not being as privileged as woman is to be able to carry around a baby for nine months? You can't even fall asleep anymore. You're so used to sleeping on your stomach that now that you can't, your screwed. You haven't slept a full nine hours in some five days. For some reason I don't resent you. At least not as much as you're going to resent me." He said before walking to the kitchen and getting a water.

Pausing from making her wonderful brunch she turns around to face him. "Resent you for what?"

He smirks.

"Tell me." Maryse says, inching closer to him.

He shakes his head, gulping his water.

Maryse hits him on the back, so suddenly that she makes him choke on his water. After he gets his breathing back under control, he fusses "What the fuck?"

"Well, according to my phone's dictionary the main meaning of fuck is sex, sex as in intercourse, and since that does nothing but make my life a living Hell, imma assume you mean sex as in gender. Now, though we've been over this, the sex of the baby is a girl. Now, and of course it's none of your business, but since I know you'll ask, I'm gonna go get ready. Since I'm getting fat now I'm going shopping for some elastic clothes." She starts to walk off but Punk grabs her arm and pulls her back. "Get off of me!" Maryse slaps his hand, causing him to pull it away and shake it.

"Ow." Punk whined.

"I don't like it when people grab me."

"That's not the song you were singing two days ago."

"Gosh you're perverted."

Putting his hand of his hip he says, "I try."

Maryse rolls her eyes before again attempting to walk upstairs. Punk pulls her back again.

"Punk!" He lets her go.

"In all seriousness though, you have to stay home and help me paint today."

"Uh!"

"Is mommy mad?"

"Punk, why today?" Maryse asked.

"Because, if not today than never. You're six months into this pregnancy, we should probably paint our baby's nursery before she comes." Punk tried.

"But I need new clothes!"

"Maryse, I am not home enough for us to keep putting this off. I have to leave tomorrow so let's go ahead and get it over with. We'll get done quicker if we both work on the room."

"Why does she need her room painted now? Shouldn't we wait until she's older and can tell us? What if we paint the room pink or blue now but she wants green then? Then we went through all this the arguing, the work we're not doing today because I have to go shopping, all for nothing, we'll just have to redo it. And that's bullshit."

"Are you bullshitting me? For five months now I've heard nothing from you except wanting to paint that nursery. Even before we knew the gender. You were so excited to do the nursery. What happened?"

"You ruined my body and I need new clothes."

"Do it tomorrow, you're staying with me today."

"You're not my father, Punk. You can't tell me what to do."

"You are impossible. You know what, go on your little shopping spree, we won't work on the nursery."

She smiled, looking relieved.

"What are you smiling about?" Punk asked agitated.

"I won."

"No, you didn't"

"Yeah I did. I always win."

"You never win."

"Oh yeah?" she said before she grabbed her bowl of spaghetti and fork and headed toward the door. Finally, she was able to walk away. Leaving Punk behind, crossing his arms, visibly upset.

"Yeah," he said, though mostly to himself."

Maryse walked into her house and fell exhausted into her love seat.

She'd spent 8 hours shopping with her mom. I mean, the baby hadn't even come yet and she was sick of it. She's had to buy baby clothes and now clothes for her because of the baby, when would it end?!

"Maryse, you back?"

She let out a loud groan.

"Come up here, baby."

"No."

"C'mon."

She did nothing, until a few minutes later when Punk's smiling figure approached her. He sat down on the armchair. "What's wrong?"

"I'm tired, Punk."

"But I have a surprise for you."

"What is it?"

"It's a surprise. You gotta come with me if you want to see it."

She turned her back to him and closed her eyes. When she felt herself being brought up her eyes instantly flickered open.

"Why?!"

"Your seeing your surprise if it kills you."

"Murder!"

"Yeah, not quite."

He took her up to their second spare room and put her down. Maryse looked around. The walls were white with aureate stars and curvy lines, as simple as it sounds it looked quite ornate. The theme looked to overall be teddy bears and horses. It looked aesthetic but chances of her telling Punk that were slim to none.

"So what do you think? I really hope you like it. I just couldn't bring myself to do the traditional pink." Punk said hopefully.

"I hate it! How dare you paint it without me." Maryse raged.

"I tried to get you to help me but you wouldn't."

"I had plans. You should have waited until a time we were both ready."

"We needed to get it done. You're almost due and when I'd be home next is always unpredictable. You know this. You did it for four years."

"No, undo it, take it down!" He'd made the mistake of leaving a paint can that was a little more than half way filled open, and in return she picked it up and threw it across the room. The aesthetic design, gray carpeting ruined by snow white paint. For the second time that day she chestily exited the room.

After returning to her cozy love seat she could hear Punk upstairs, screaming, hitting things, he sounded angered.

After a few minutes of that it hit her that she had perhaps made a bad choice of judgment. Hearing him go on guilt fell heavy on her shoulders.

She started sobbing. She needed to go apologize but he was upset, she needed to let him calm down. And how would she apologize?

After a few minutes she heard a door close, to her relief it was not a slam but just shutting. She assumed he'd went to their bedroom. Hoping he was now calm, she went upstairs and crept into their room only to find it empty. He must still be in the baby's room.

She went to the nursery's door and pressed her ear against it. She heard his even breathing. Was he asleep? Slowly, she walked inside sheepishly. Though he was facing her he did not look up.

He was looking through a catalog that looked to be badly disassembled at places. Deciding he was calm enough, she walked over and sat in front of him. He continued to go on about his business as if she weren't even there.

"Will you look at me?" Maryse questioned.

"I don't want to see you right now." It sounded as if Punk was trying to keep his voice from yelling.

"I know, I wouldn't want to see me either. I suck." Maryse said looking down.

"You said it not me."

"I thought I was making progress. Usually I would have slapped you."

"At least my hard work wouldn't be wasted right now if you had."

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"Agreed."

"Punk… How can I make it up to you?"

He shrugged.

"What if I help you redo this, no complaints?"

"Nah. It's just that little corner. After I pay to get the carpet replaced the rest will be easy. I don't need your help." CM Punk said coldly.

"You don't want my help. You hate me." Though against her ever changing will she started crying lightly again. "But that's good because I've always said I hate you, and you're good to me, always."

He put his catalog down, finally looking at her. "Come here." He patted to the spot next to him.

She shook her head, in response he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her over next to him.

"You make me sound as if I'm almost a nice guy. And the world knows I'm an asshole." Punk began.

She smiled a little bit, causing him to grin from ear to ear. She put her head in the crook of his neck as he held her.

He continued, "I've teased and taunted you. Berated and pranked you. Don't make me sound like a saint."

"I deserve it, I was always meaner to you than you were to me." Maryse croaked out.

"Not at first, remember? You were nice, all friendly, made me sick to my stomach. I always belittled you. A lot of times I bet you didn't even know it because of your French, you didn't know a lot of English at the time. I'd call you Maurice."

"You still call me Maurice."

"I know, I still tease, taunt, and prank you too."

"You don't berate me anymore?"

"If I still berated you don't you think I would have said something after you threw the paint?"

"You're right."

"Of course I am, babe. Anyhow, however I treat you is fine because for whatever reason, you stick around."

"And I treat you the same way."

"Exactly. And I wouldn't have it any other way." Punk said, tightening his grip around her.

"Even after today?" Maryse looked up at him.

"That's how you do things and I love you. You pissed me off but I'm not just gonna kick you to the curb because of it."

"I'm glad to hear."

"That'll probably be different tomorrow."

"Hey, you know I can't help these hormones."

"I know, but you're like that whether your pregnant or not."

She slapped him playfully while laughing. He stood up before helping her up. "I ove you too, but I'm gonna get you for that."

He kissed her, "But I've got to get you back first. And now that your not crying…"

He painted a long white steak on her nose. "Uh!"

"Oops!" He pretended to have tripped before running out of the room.

She went over to the closet, and pulled out black paint. They'd had many different ideas for painting the nursery. She'd bought black just to mess with Punk. After collecting various paint brushes and a flash light, in case he was hiding in the dark, she was on her way.

She was glad he'd painted the nursery without her. She'd find much more enjoyment painting him and letting him paint her.


End file.
